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Romance

"Written in His Hand"

In a bustling university in Manila, Lianne is a nursing student with a passion for writing anonymous love letters left in library books. One day, she discovers a reply — in her own handwriting. The mystery deepens when she finds out someone has been copying her handwriting, echoing her words, and leaving secret messages just for her. The twist? It's someone she never expected — someone she’s both drawn to and unsure she can trust.

May 12, 2025  |   20 min read

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Jinky Almanon
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Chapter 7: When Words Fail

The days seemed to stretch endlessly as the silence between them grew. Callan was gone. He wasn't just missing from the library wing anymore, he was absent from everything. She hadn't seen him in class. She hadn't heard his soft voice in the hallways. Even their usual shared breaks, where he would casually sit a few tables away and pretend to study, had become distant, almost like they were back to being strangers.

Lianne's heart, which had once danced to the rhythm of his letters, now ached with a familiar, empty longing. There were no notes, no folded messages waiting for her when she least expected them. Just an eerie void where his presence once was.

At first, she thought it might be temporary. Maybe he needed time to sort things out. Maybe his brother's condition was worse than he'd let on. Maybe he just needed space. But as the days turned into a week, then two, her hopes of hearing from him grew smaller and smaller, like the fading light of the evening sun.

She couldn't even tell Kara. She didn't want to admit how much it bothered her - how much it hurt to realize that a boy who had written her so many letters, poured so much of his heart into them, could so easily disappear from her life. She didn't want to show how deeply she cared. Not yet. Not when everything between them felt so fragile.

Then, one night, after a long and tiring day at the hospital, Lianne found herself sitting on the steps outside the nursing dormitory, the weight of the entire world pressing on her shoulders. She could hear the sounds of her dutymates laughing inside, the clinking of dishes, but none of it reached her. Her thoughts were consumed by the unanswered questions.

Where was Callan? What happened to him? Was he avoiding her on purpose? Did he feel the same way she did, or had he just been pretending?

She stood up, heading back inside to avoid her own spiraling thoughts, when a familiar figure appeared at the door, standing in the shadows.

"Callan?"

Her voice cracked with surprise, and for a moment, she thought she might have imagined it. But then he stepped into the light, and her breath hitched in her chest. He looked different - thinner, tired, like a piece of him had been missing. His eyes were haunted, filled with something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Lianne," he said, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoken in days. His eyes were filled with apologies that he couldn't put into words, and his hand trembled slightly as he reached out to her.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "I should've told you. I should've come back sooner. But things were... I didn't know how to explain."

Lianne felt her pulse race. She swallowed the knot in her throat, trying to steady herself. "You don't need to explain. I just... I just didn't know where you went. I thought I might've done something wrong."

"No." He stepped closer, shaking his head, his hands still trembling as they reached for her. "It wasn't you. It was never you. I just... I was scared. I didn't know how to face you, to face what I was feeling. I thought I could disappear and fix everything, but it doesn't work like that."

Lianne's heart twisted as she looked into his eyes, reading the raw sincerity in his gaze. "Callan, what happened? You disappeared without a word. You left me with all these questions and no answers."

He closed his eyes briefly, as if gathering the courage to speak. "My brother. He collapsed. It was bad, Lianne. I thought I was going to lose him. I couldn't... I didn't want to write letters. I didn't want to pretend that everything was okay when it wasn't. I couldn't even think straight."

Lianne's heart softened, and she stepped closer, her hand reaching for his. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. But you don't have to carry that alone. You never had to carry that alone."

He took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "I know now. I just... I didn't know how to say it without feeling like I was burdening you with all my pain."

She shook her head. "You're never a burden, Callan. Not to me."

He looked down, his gaze shifting to their joined hands. "I was scared, Lianne. Scared of how much I started caring about you. Scared that it was all too much. And I thought that if I stepped back, maybe I could fix things with my brother. Maybe I could fix myself."

She took his chin gently, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "You don't have to fix yourself, Callan. We all have our battles. But we don't face them alone. I'm here. I'm always here. For you."

He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't deserve you, Lianne."

She smiled softly, cupping his cheek. "You never had to deserve me. I've always been here."

And then, in that quiet moment, when the world seemed to fade away, Callan leaned in, closing the distance between them. He kissed her, tender and slow, as if they were both testing the waters after a long, painful separation. His lips were soft, and when they parted, their breaths mingled in the cool night air.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

"I've missed you too," Lianne whispered back.

They stood there in silence for a moment, holding each other, feeling the warmth of their embrace chase away the coldness that had lingered between them for so long.

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